


hold me in your arms (midsummer bloom)

by prrkbaek



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Byun Baekhyun is Bad at Feelings, First Love, Full on romance, M/M, Park Chanyeol is Whipped, Slice of Life, teenage angst, two shy beans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23312386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prrkbaek/pseuds/prrkbaek
Summary: Chanyeol, a teenager who never fell in love, wonders what could have made his neighbor get expelled from one of the most acclaimed boarding schools of the country.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	hold me in your arms (midsummer bloom)

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!!!!!!!! this is an extremely basic project and i just want to get it out of my chest so please bear with me and i hope you're able to enjoy it as much as possible!!!!!!!! see ya

Chanyeol had no shame in admitting that he’d never truly thought about getting  _ into a romantic relationship _ with someone during most of his teenage years. It was completely normal, healthy, even, considering the dissatisfaction and neverending angst that he saw in his friends after each disappointment and love delusion they went through. His certainty, however, was that he was into boys. Without a doubt. There were no pair of breasts that could awaken his dick the same way the sight of a single drop of sweat sliding over Kim Jongin’s abdomen, the most popular basketball player of the whole school, could. Chanyeol’s interest in the male leads in the dramas his mother loved so intensely was not hidden at all, so it was safe to say that he’d never felt the necessity to come out to her; she knew it all along.

It was in the last summer before his eighteenth birthday that Chanyeol considered the idea of sharing a little bit of warmth with somebody else.

The only information he had about his neighbors from the apartment next door was that they’d two children: a thirteen-year-old girl who would always rescue stray cats and a boy, a few months older than Chanyeol himself, who was always away to study in a highly acclaimed boarding school for boys within the country. Attached to his mother the way he was, Park thought it’d be impossible for him to live like that, only visiting Seoul once every year during vacations. In that year, strangely enough, the couple’s first-born was coming back home with overcrowded luggages, instead of a simple backpack for short thirty days of freedom. Staring not only at Byun-dad but also at Byun-son when leaving his building, Chanyeol didn’t know exactly how to act in front of them.

“Do you need help?”

Mr. Byun took two seconds to notice Chanyeol talking to him. The teenager’s routine was easily learned, every day accomplishing the same tasks; for that day, he’d already thrown the trash out, and now he was already back from the supermarket for his mother, bringing all the supplies she needed for their home, where he’d spend the day watching movies and playing online games. Meanwhile, his neighbor was used to leaving his house usually at the same time as Chanyeol, but to fetch the newspaper and get his legs moving a little.

“Won’t it bother you, Chanyeol?” The man sighed, apparently tired while taking the last luggage out of the taxi cab. “I don’t want you to be late.”

Sharing an awkward moment with both Byuns by being obviously sheepish, Park tried to think fast on how to make it more comfortable. Mr. Byun was probably forty-five, but Chanyeol was always shocked to notice the amount of grey hair he had. He assumed the older man was incredibly busy, and that the stress from work left him like that, visibly exhausted, because he’d never once heard, through the exceptionally thin walls of his apartment, his neighbors get in a fight. Unless, maybe, if it was about the endless stray cats they’d take in.

“Oh, of course not, Mr. Byun. I’m glad to give a hand.”

But, in all honesty, the whole process became weird to a high extent. Holding two bags  — not to mention the bag full of food over his back — while the other men would take one each, it was noticeable how much the younger Byun was not even a little bit comfortable inside the small elevator, and wouldn’t consider for a single moment to glance at Chanyeol. And, to be fair, Chanyeol didn’t judge him at all for his behavior. They’d never shared a word, not intentionally, despite living next to each other for years now, and to present yourself like that in front of your parents seemed a little odd, like children being forced to be friends just because of the convenient proximity. 

Maybe his consciousness to keep quiet at all times made accredited grown ups believe Chanyeol was unbelievably polite. The Byuns were good company and his mom loved them, what automatically made him be too cordial, even to someone he didn’t even know, like the teen beside him. He offered to take his bags to his room too, but Byun-son whispered to his father that he could manage. With heavy eyes, Mr. Byun nodded in appreciation. 

“It’s okay, kid. You’ve done too much for us.” The man unlocked his door and his son hurriedly got his stuff together and ran to his room, like he was about to run a marathon. For the last time, Chanyeol’s neighbor looked at his direction and smiled nicely. “Thank you for your help, really.”

The only reaction he got from Chanyeol was a respectful bow, and with a blink of an eye, he was suddenly inside his own apartment, still kind of lost. His mother found him frozen, leaning against the door with a blank expression. 

“Oh, you’re back,” she said, frowning a moment later. She threw her dishcloth over her shoulder to grab her child’s cheeks. “Did something happen on your way there? You’re looking weird.”

“The neighbor’s kid…” Chanyeol answered, slightly unsure of what exactly was bothering him. “Is he moving back in? To stay?”

Yoojin, seemingly understanding what the situation was presumably about, looked away from him and pursed her lips. 

“He’s here to stay,” she nodded, pretending to go back to whatever activity she was doing before.

Chanyeol shook his head and crossed his arms, noticing her strange reaction.

“Have you been talking to the Byuns without me knowing, mom?” He questioned, pressuring her by walking straight to her direction.

“If this is your way of asking if I’m gossipy, darling, then the answer is  _ yes _ ,” she completed, sounding terribly ironic. That finally brought expression to Chanyeol’s face, making him laugh softly. She took a deep breath, thinking about what she’d share with him, just to satiate his curiosity. “Jiyeon came by to talk to me, that day you went for a sleepover at Sehun’s. We’ve some things in common.”

Chanyeol hummed in agreement, processing the information.

“Are you and Mrs. Byun friends now?”

Yoojin leaned over the kitchen counter, looking back at her son with caring eyes as she always did. As an extroverted woman, making friends was never a barrier nor a hardship for her. Chanyeol would get all proud whenever he went to the little street market down the road and got to be pampered by all the sellers, old ladies and men, just because he was dear Yoojin’s son, the endless talker. There wasn’t any problem she couldn’t find a solution to, and that’s why everybody would look for her if they wanted to get something out their chests during her fifty minute long shopping adventure. Chanyeol mentioned once that what she was providing was basically free therapeutic counseling, and that maybe she’d be a great psychologist if she wasn’t too keen on giving her opinion on things, but that’s where she drew the line — if she couldn’t say what she thought about it, then what’s the point?

“I hope so. I think she most definitely needs a friend right now—” Yoojin suddenly stopped talking, tilting her head to the side. “Why are you still holding my shopping bag?”

Realizing he forgot to hand it to his mother, Chanyeol quickly took it off his shoulder, placing the bag over the counter for Yoojin to check everything.

“Oh, also, Mrs. Kim said she has something very important to tell you.” Chanyeol mentioned, getting some water from the fridge. “I think it’s about her spying on her husband. Again.”

Yoojin chuckled, instantly looking for her phone to call Mrs. Kim right away. Gulping all his water down, Chanyeol allowed himself to wonder what could’ve happened to bring such a somber look to his old time, almost never seen, neighbor.


End file.
